


Hux is Coming (to Ireland)

by sunshineflying



Series: A Song of Trash and Fire [20]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hux before his father ruined him, Ireland, M/M, Underage Drinking, and you can legally drink at 20 there, but not really because it's Ireland, study abroad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 22:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18127430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineflying/pseuds/sunshineflying
Summary: Set in the world of A Song of Trash and Fire, but many years before the fic takes place.Twenty year old Hux, in a last ditch effort to be himself before finishing college and becoming one of the many cronies in his father's company, decides to study abroad in Ireland. But more than that -- Ireland is where his mother's family came from, where his family has roots, and... well, the men don't look too bad, either.





	Hux is Coming (to Ireland)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with some Hux backstory! I hope you enjoy!

Hux hadn’t thought anything of it, using one of the many credit cards his father had given him to use whilst studying abroad in Ireland. His first weekend in Dublin, he’d slid his AmEx across the bar to pay for his top shelf whiskey, and apparently he’d caught the eye of some of the other Trinity College elite. 

They’d promptly invited him to their fresher’s week party.

Fresher’s week was a strange custom that American’s didn’t have. It was like Greek Week and Homecoming all mashed into one — drinking and shenanigans the likes of which would put many American house parties to shame. The festivities lasted all week. Originally meant as a week for new students to become acquainted with campus, for them to sit in on courses they were considering before deciding whether to commit to them for a full semester, and just a generally welcoming, jam-packed full of events kind of week, it quickly morphed into the mess it was now.

And Hux found himself to be the recipient of an invitation to one of the top parties of the entire week. 

He was a junior — only twenty years old, but of course had consumed alcohol long before this — and very new to campus. He was still shedding his awkward, gangly phase that still lingered on him from high school. Expensive exfoliants knocked the acne from his skin long ago, but his hair still became greasy rather quickly (partially because it was long, around his shoulders) and he wished he had more muscle on his bones. 

But his AmEx had won him a ticket to this party, and he wasn’t going to waste his chance.

His father supported studying abroad to make him more well-versed, for him to make connections, to network, but Hux had gone to get away from his father. He’d wanted to know what it was like to live and breathe and work and study in a place where his father had never set foot. In a place where he could reinvent himself. Or better yet — a place where he could truly be who he wanted to be.

He hadn’t gotten to do that since before his mother died.

Donned in his usual khakis and a green sweater, Hux knocked on the door to a historic looking brick house. It looked older than America, but in far better condition.

The student who opened the door wasn’t the one he’d gotten the invitation from, but seemed unfazed by Hux’s presence, anyway. “C’mon in,” he said, stepping back to let Hux into the house. 

There was no music, no booming noise. It was unlike any party Hux had ever been to before. In fact, he wasn’t sure if it was even a party at all.

“I’m Cody,” said the guy. His sandy blonde hair looked windswept, and he studied Hux with amusement in his green eyes. “The rest of the lads are ‘round here, in the lounge. I’ll show you the way.”

So, the door shutting behind them, Hux followed Cody into the house. It was a mess, as any place inhabited by a bunch of twenty year old guys would be, but there was a certain class to it that Hux hadn’t seen anywhere else. It was much better than the crappy dorm he and the other American students had been put up in for the year, at any rate.

In the lounge sat a group of guys, including the one who’d given him the invitation. Cody began introducing them all, but Hux had completely tuned out. He could only focus on one thing.

Striking warm brown eyes stared across the room at him, peeking through raven black waves of hair. The guy was lounging back on the sofa, a can of beer in hand, elbow propped up on the back of the seat. He had his legs crossed, and he watched Hux with a knowing gaze that made something twist in his gut.

Whoever this guy was… Hux knew right away he was going to change his life.

“And I’m Deaglan,” he said, clicking the ‘k’ in his name particularly roughly. “That’s D-E-A-G-L-A-N. But I believe you lot over in the states bastardized it with a ‘c’ or some shite,” he mocked.

“Hux.”

He waved lamely. 

God, if Phasma and Ben could see him now. They’d be in tears, they’d be laughing so hard. One look into Deaglan’s stupid eyes and he’d become a weak _mess_.

“Hux?” Deaglan repeated, his accent making it sound more like _Hoox_. “What the hell kind of name is that?” Then, almost as an afterthought, he waved around his free hand and said, “No offense.”

“It’s my last name,” explained Hux.

“Why d’you go by your last name?” asked another guy, one of the ones whose name Hux hadn’t been paying attention to.

“Because I hate my first name.”

The room was quiet. Hux looked around nervously, scrunching his fists nervously inside the too-long sleeves of his sweater. It was becoming a fight or flight situation, and he was leaning dangerously towards _flight_. But he’d promised his dad he’d try to network here, and this group was clearly the cool, elite guys. They were the ones he had to fall in with. They were the ones he had to impress.

“Go on then, what’s your first name? Let us mock it with you for a tick and then we’ll all move on with our lives,” Deaglan coaxed.

Had anyone else asked, Hux probably would have said no, but given it was Deaglan, he couldn’t find it in him to resist. He already knew that Deaglan was going to be no good.

Hux swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Armitage.”

A few of the lads snickered, but Deaglan’s opinion was all that really mattered to Hux. “It’s not bad,” shrugged Deaglan. “I’ve heard worse.”

Absentmindedly, Hux laughed nervously and felt himself relax. Nobody was _actually_ teasing him. And Deaglan seemed to be as focused on Hux as Hux was on him.

“Alright, enough of that boring stuff,” said Cody. “Have a seat. Beer or whiskey, Hux?”

Hux looked to his left, where Cody still stood. He must be the leader. Or maybe just the house host. For a moment, he’d forgotten he was there. “Um… whiskey sounds good.”

“A man after my own heart,” remarked Deaglan, pulling Hux’s attention back to him.

Deaglan’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and Hux felt a tightness in his chest. Their eyes still locked, Deaglan scooted aside on the sofa and patted the cushion next to him, beckoning him over. Hux took a seat, his hands drawn up into the sleeves of his sweater, his gaze darting around the room to see what the other guys thought of this odd display of… friendship? Something more? None of them seemed surprised in the slightest, so much so that not a soul was looking at them anymore. They’d gone back to their drinks and conversations from earlier.

“So, Hux,” Deaglan began. “D’you like Dublin so far?”

Hux knew this was bad. This was _very_ bad. Deaglan had the warmest eyes and dark hair and a smooth, low voice like Ben’s, but much hotter. And for some insane reason, he was interested in him.

When he looked up, their eyes locked again, and Hux couldn’t look away. He was trapped, but what was worse, he didn’t want to move. 

He was in a foreign country without his father watching over him — or any of his father’s cronies, for that matter — with an attractive man one-hundred percent focused on him. Hux needed to forget everything he used to worry about, forget what people might think or say. He had one year in Dublin, that was it. This was his only chance to really be himself before his father’s predetermined future stared him hard in the face. Before grad school and internships and networking he didn’t want to do.

This was Hux’s last chance at _fun_.

So he took a deep breath, smiled at Deaglan with only a faint blush on his cheeks, and nodded.

“Good. Glad to hear it,” replied Deaglan. He glanced up to Hux’s hair, and to the softest smattering of freckles on his cheeks, and then back into his eyes. “Why’d you pick Ireland?”

Hux raised an eyebrow. “I think you _just_ figured it out,” he quipped.

“Mum’s side or dad’s side?” Deaglan asked.

Some light flickered out of Hux’s eyes, disappearing at the thought of his mother. Though it had been five years now, the ache of losing her still wasn’t gone. Maybe it would never be gone. Deaglan seemed to pick up on the change in demeanor, because he cocked his head to the side and offered his beer.

Hux shook his head and took a breath. He didn’t want to turn to relying on alcohol in order to talk about his mother. Besides, it was an innocent question. It wasn’t like he’d asked how she died or something.

“My mom’s side,” Hux answered finally. 

“I see,” Deaglan replied. “I won’t ask more questions like that, I promise.”

“It’s fine,” Hux insisted. 

He glanced up as he heard boots on the hardwood floors. Cody was approaching with a glass of whiskey, and Hux would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved. He took it gratefully, and brought the glass to his lips.

They spoke about less serious things after that, like courses and vacations and at one point, ripping on their pretentious fathers. At times, others in the room would chime in, and at times, Hux had Deaglan all to himself. One drink turned to two, turned to four, turned to six, and as the sun set outside the ivy-framed picture window of the lounge, the small group dispersed.

By the time he and Deaglan had finished off their last beers, their heads were swirling, they were smiling, and the arm that Deaglan had once propped up on the back of the sofa was now comfortably, warmly wrapped around Hux’s shoulders. 

They’d scooted closer as the night went on, knees bumping, Hux’s hand on Deaglan’s thigh, their faces so close that at times, they were almost cross-eyed as they tried to make eye contact. 

“I’m glad you’re here, Hux,” Deaglan said coyly. 

There was that accent again, the one that drove Hux crazy. _Hoox_. For some reason, his name sounded better that way. He liked the sound of it on Deaglan’s lips, in his soothing baritone.

Unabashedly, his words slurred just a bit from all the drinks they’d had that night, Hux replied, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

Deaglan smiled. His eyes sparkled as he did so, and Hux’s heart did a little leap in his chest. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

It was a declaration that Hux wasn’t expecting, and one he didn’t know what to do with, because his only instinct was to reply with, _yes, please, that’s all I’ve wanted since I met you_.

Instead of speaking, Hux swallowed past a lump in his throat and nodded, licking his lips in anticipation. He’d waited too long for his first kiss, anyway. What better time to do it than abroad in Ireland, with a handsome man like Deaglan curled up on the sofa with him?

Their noses bumped, and Hux’s eyes fluttered closed. The intrigue and excitement swirled inside of him and the moment he felt Deaglan’s breath on his lips, Hux’s own breath caught in his throat. And when their lips met, Hux’s head began to spin, and he didn’t think it was the alcohol. It was something else. 

His heart thudded dangerously hard in his chest and he gripped Deaglan’s thigh a bit tighter, and for one fleeting moment he worried that he’d make an absolute fool of himself. 

Deaglan took the lead, adjusting his lips against Hux’s, moving slowly, taking his time. They had all the time in the world. His fingers threaded through Hux’s long red hair, keeping their faces close even when they had to part for air. Though it was the first kiss Hux had ever experienced, he felt a settling familiarity in it with Deaglan, like there was no way he could screw it up so long as he was with this man. 

_Christ_ , he was drunk.

But he pushed that thought away immediately in favor of scooting closer to Deaglan, if it were even possible, and kissing him deeper. 

Hux lost track of time on that sofa, wrapped up in Deaglan, who was wrapped up in him. He kissed the man as though his life depended on it, savoring each moment, each touch, each taste.

Neither knew how much time had passed since Deaglan first declared he was going to kiss Hux, but they were interrupted in the end by Cody whistling at them from the doorway. The kiss broke abruptly, but neither felt like scooting away from the other. Still sitting wrapped up in each other, Deaglan glanced over at the doorway while Hux looked down at his lap. He brought a hand to his lips, touching them, feeling a bit dazed from all the alcohol and kissing.

“Get a room,” Cody declared, before laughing and sauntering up the stairwell haphazardly.

Hux blushed furiously as he glanced up into Deaglan’s eyes. He felt sheepish and timid. His friends would mock him if they saw him now, all his confidence gone.

That’s what happened, he supposed, when he finally made time for a little romance in his life. Or… affection. Whatever this was.

“D’you want to get a room?” Deaglan asked playfully, smirking as he awaited an answer.

Hux’s whole face grew hotter. “I — sure.”

Deaglan laughed. “Don’t worry. It’s not my style to hook up when drunk. Not with anyone as hot as you, anyway.”

“Hot? Please,” Hux scoffed.

He knew his hair was gross and he should cut it. And that was just the first of many things about Hux that he found decidedly _not_ hot about himself.

“C’mon. Stay with me tonight. You’re too bollocksed to get home by yourself anyway,” Deaglan said. “We can cuddle. That’s what you’d rather do, isn’t it?”

Deaglan stood, so sure and steady on his feet that most would be hard-pressed to believe him when he said he was drunk. “I don’t cuddle,” Hux protested, far less steady on his feet than Deaglan had been.

Again, Deaglan laughed. “You’re stubborn,” he observed, reaching out to help Hux gain steady footing. “I just met you, but I’d wager you don’t do a lot of things.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, babe,” Deaglan replied, patting at Hux’s arm to relax him. “You just seem a little… virginal.”

Hux frowned. “You knew?”

Deaglan leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Hux’s forehead. It wasn’t until that very moment that Hux realized they were the same height. That was a rarity for him. The only people he knew that were even near his own height were Ben and Phasma — neither viable options for dating, in Hux’s opinion.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” reassured Deaglan. “It’s kind of hot.”

Hux swayed on the spot, and Deaglan’s hands dropped to his waist again. “Let’s go up to my room. I think we both need to sleep this off.”

Hux only nodded, too afraid to nod his head now that his stomach had begun churning just a little. Together, they stumbled up the stairs and collapsed directly into Deaglan’s bed, Hux in Deaglan’s arms. 

It was the best night of sleep Hux had gotten in weeks.


End file.
